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atmosphere was a romantic siren, beckoning us to stay.
Afternoon light glistened on the river, reflecting ribbons of
color that danced on the luxurious brick-and-whitewashed
walls and the dark hardwood floor. If I hadn t had so much
business waiting at home, I d have booked one more night,
just to bask a little longer in the city s strange, beautiful
mixture of serenity and festive frenzy.
The desk clerk slid a copy of the receipt across the
polished marble surface and flashed a cultured beauty-
pageant smile. Her sleek, easy blondness matched her
slow-cooked Texas drawl. We re glad you enjoyed your
stay, Mr. Gonzalez, and hope you ll come back soon.
With this pretty scenery& . Bowing my head slightly
and lifting a brow, I dispensed my very best old-world
lothario charm. I m sure I will be back.
My grandfather told me, before I was even old enough
to think of flirting, that nothing caused hearts to flutter like
old-fashioned Latin cordiality spiced with flattery. He was
right. The clerk Jerri, her nametag proclaimed tucked
her chin and blushed. I often wondered what Grandfather
would have thought, though, if I d told him that this
ancient art of Latino bewitchery worked on men as well.
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Just as I tossed Jerri a parting smile and slid the
folded receipt in my pocket, my cell phone vibrated. I
glanced at the caller ID. Jesse again.
I flipped the cell open. Sí?
Silence followed by a deep sigh on the other end.
Jesse s tone was heavy. Candelario.
I m headed home. I ll be there in
Are you in the car? Is your amor bonito right there?
No, he s& . I scanned the lobby. Carlos remained by
the windows, out of earshot, but I lowered my voice
anyway. I m checking out of the hotel. He can t hear me.
Have you found out more?
I found out what Carlos is working on.
My gut wrenched, and I glanced toward the windows
where my lover stood. I could only whisper, hoarse, What?
Riding on a huge sigh, Jesse s words finally strained
through the cell. Jefe, he s investigating Teirso Flores.
Although my legs threatened to give out under me, I
made it to the lobby entrance and beckoned to Carlos from
the door. Chico, I m going out here to take this call.
He nodded, smiling, from across the elegant hardwood
floor, and doubt washed over me massive, aching
uncertainty wondering who the hell his beautiful face
really belonged to. I returned his smile and stepped out to
the sidewalk that bustled with uniformed valets and
porters.
Sinking onto a bench, I sucked in a deep breath and
coaxed my mind into focus. Now, Jesse. Say that again.
Candy G. | C. Zampa
154
He d obviously taken a moment to steel himself. The
edginess had left his voice. Carlos is investigating Teirso
Flores.
I stared out to the parking lot, seeing nothing. Over the
magnified rumble of idling cars in the circled drive and the
pulse pounding in my ears, I struggled to make my voice
audible. This all seems impossible. I mean& well& . My
brain scavenged for reasoning. Fuck, Jesse, he was busted
for cocaine. I checked it out myself. It was real. If he
A fake arrest. A plant. To get in good with some crap-
ass vatos in jail to get the shit on Flores.
Rojas. The sneaky little snitch. The temperature
seemed to have climbed hundreds of degrees in these few
minutes. I swiped sweat from my forehead. You ve paid
Rojas well, Jesse, not to squeal to Flores?
Of course.
But Carlos, Jesse. Carlos. Could it be a mistake?
I m still checking. To placate me, surely, he added
gently, You never know.
I m not going to say anything to him until we get
home. I ve got to think. I stood and headed for the lobby.
If it s true, I ll know by his reaction.
Unless, Jefe, he s a very good actor.
We ll see. Upon opening the door, the crisp, cool air
from the lobby brushed my face. I m inside now, amigo. I ll
talk to you later. I flipped the cell shut and clipped it to my
belt. Dragging in a deep lungful of air, I started toward
Carlos.
Ready, chico? I called to his back, unable to shake
the feeling of approaching an alien.
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155
He turned, and his face brightened, full of love. Yes.
I felt as though I shared the trip home with a
hitchhiker, a total stranger. As I cruised along the
interstate, smiling billboards drifted past me, advertising
booze, soft drinks, the lottery, car dealerships signs that
proved life around me hadn t changed but that chaos
reigned in mine.
Carlos leaned back against the headrest, snoring
quietly. A tiny smile touched the corners of his parted lips.
Love pulsed hard in my heart.
My mind replayed the night in the shower, Carlos
attempting to tell me something about himself. I had
refused to listen. He must have been trying to tell me he
was a cop.
Maybe if I hadn t been so obsessed with him, I d have
questioned his daily activities. It never occurred to me to
wonder what he did during the day, other than his work at
the carwash and the restaurant who he spoke to, what he
did on his way to and from work.
I ruminated over his erratic behavior especially the
night he turned up out of nowhere at the ball park after a
month s absence. He d admitted the drug bust which, as it
turns out, was fake. But why had he waited a month to
return, and then only when he supposedly was being
chased and afraid?
I glanced at him, and a chill darted up my back. Ruben
Vargas. Who the fuck are you?
Candy G. | C. Zampa
156
AFTER we returned home, Carlos showered and napped,
and I paced the kitchen, a caged, nervous tiger.
The moment the cell rang, I snatched it from the
counter. Jesse?
Candelario& . Jesse s voice quavered. In all the years
I d known him, in all the situations we d weathered
together, I d never heard such uneasiness in his tone.
A chill streaked up my spine.
Jesse? I forced calm into my words. Take it easy,
amigo. Scrubbing the tingle at the back of my neck, I
prompted, What have you found out?
Candy, I should come over, tell you in person, no? He
let out a jerky chuckle.
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